THE NEXT DAY WAS FRIDAY. It was the end of the first week and he was conscious they still didn’t have any answers on the murder. But he found the time to go and see Father Kelly, if only for his own satisfaction. Needless to say that his satisfaction lasted no longer than it took for Father Kelly to open his mouth.
‘It’s awful self-righteous ye are, sure enough,’ said Father Kelly. ‘And isn’t it something to fill the lonely winter evenings I was after? Something to warm an old man’s cockles.’
‘But, Father. You’re a priest. I thought your cockles were meant to be celibate.’
‘Aw, sure and wasn’t I as pure as the driven snow? No carnal physicals were involved. No dogs, no cats, no wee ones. I’m a living, breathing man, young Rafferty, not a plaster saint. Would you be rubbing my nose in it
